


Christmas with a Side Trip to the ER

by DawnDust



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Blood and Injury, Fluff and Angst, Hospitals, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Patrick Brewer is a Troll, Patrick Brewer loves David Rose, This is mostly just comfort with a tiny bit of hurt, trolling as a love language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:35:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,855
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28319814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnDust/pseuds/DawnDust
Summary: David and Patrick are celebrating their first Christmas since the wedding. A blizzard and an injury throw a wrench into their plans.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 22
Kudos: 122





	Christmas with a Side Trip to the ER

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fanfiction I've ever written. I used to write when I was younger, and am trying to get back into it. This was only supposed to be a couple thousands words long, but you know how it goes. All mistakes and inaccuracies are my own, as I don't celebrate Christmas, don't know much about wound care, and know less than David about baseball. It's unfortunately not betaed, since I don't have a beta, but I hope you still enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Patrick watched David move yet another box two centimeters to the left. 

“David, do the presents really have to be arranged perfectly if we’re the only two people here?” Patrick asked for the third time, topping off the plates of french toast he had just made with blueberry syrup. 

“Um, obviously? Do you think that aesthetics just stop mattering if other people aren’t around?” David snapped back without turning around, still concentrating on moving boxes around almost imperceptibly. 

Patrick felt irritation well up in his gut, but he made an effort not to snap back. He understood why David was so on edge, but he wished he wouldn’t take it out on him. Both his parents and all three of Roses had planned to come up to their new cottage for Christmas, as David had vetoed having the Roses over for any day of Hanukkah, since he could only put up with so much. But the day they had all planned to leave, a huge blizzard had blown through New York, and subsequently, Ontario, grounding all of their planes. 

Their families had collectively decided to wait to depart until it was closer to New Year’s instead, so they could still have a belated Christmas/New Year’s family celebration, but David was taking the change particularly hard. Patrick had watched him spend the last few months picking out the perfect Christmas presents for everyone, add tasteful decorations throughout their cottage, (mistletoe is NOT correct, Patrick, no matter how many rom-coms use them) and had then spent the next few days after the storm watch his fretful excitement dim and turn into resentment. 

No matter how many times Patrick reassured him that his family and Brewers really did want to see them and the only reason they weren’t coming was because of the weather, David just brushed him off. Patrick thought that waking up this morning and seeing that the snow was finally melting would have lifted David’s spirits, but for some reason, it only made his bad mood worse. Patrick was running out of patience and really didn’t want to say something he would regret on Christmas.

He sat down at the table, and waited for David to finish rearranging the presents. “You know, David, the french toast I spent the past forty-five minutes making to your exact specifications is getting cold, and I’m not heating it up again.”

David scoffed at that, but stopped rearranging the presents and joined Patrick at the table. He angrily grabbed a forkful of french toast and shoved it in his mouth. Patrick suppressed a smile at David’s face, his husband’s cheeks swollen like a squirrel’s, while he attempted to chew angrily. 

“What do you think?” Patrick asked, and his attempts were met with a full-fledged David Rose glare. 

“It’s fine, I guess. You should have added more syrup.” Patrick did let out an audible sigh at that, feeling even more irritated. He’d spent a long time tweaking that recipe, and knew David loved it. However, it still would have still been nice to get some validation from his husband. 

“Thanks, David! Nice to know how much you appreciate everything I do for you.” David narrowed his eyes at him. Okay, maybe that wasn’t the best phrasing to use with a sullen David Rose, looking for any excuse to fight.

“ _Everything_ you do for me? What is that supposed to mean?” David replied, an undercurrent of something dangerous in his voice. 

“It just means that I spent a long time making breakfast for you, and I’ve spent a long time trying to make sure that you would have a good Christmas, so I don’t really appreciate how you’ve been acting.” Patrick tried explaining. 

The vein in David’s eye twitched. Maybe Patrick should have saved this conversation for after David had cooled down a bit, but he was also reaching a breaking point. David had been snipping at him for the past three days, and he was sick of humoring him. 

“ _You’ve_ spent a long time trying to make sure that _I_ had a good Christmas?” David replied, his voice getting louder and shriller, “I called both of our families! I’ve spent the past few months trying to make sure you could have a real family Christmas like you’re used to instead of a sad, lonely Christmas with just me for company.” He trailed off at the end, looking more sad than angry.

Patrick furrowed his brows. Is that what David had been thinking? “David. What makes you think that I don’t consider you family enough for us to have a real family Christmas together?” 

David looked down at his plate, lips pursed. After a few moments of silence, he responded, “It’s just that you grew up in such a big family. And you kept talking about how you would wake up Christmas morning at your grandmother’s house and open presents from all your cousins and aunts and uncles,” Patrick nodded, seeing where this was going. 

“So, I just wanted you to have something like that again, but then my parents canceled and your parents canceled and now you just have me. I just… I don’t feel like I can compete with all your past experiences.” David finished, looking up at Patrick with a vulnerable expression on his face. Patrick’s heart hurt with the depth of his love for David. He would gladly spend the rest of his life convincing David that he was enough. 

Patrick stood up and went to David’s side of the table. He delicately grasped David’s face and turned his head up so he could look him in the eye. “David. I love you. I married you for a reason. I promise you, I don’t need a big family Christmas if I have you.” He paused to let the words sink in. David nodded, and Patrick used his thumbs to wipe away the tears that had welled up in David’s eyes. 

“I love you too.” David whispered, his voice raspy. Patrick kissed his forehead and then pulled him up into a hug. He wrapped his arms tightly around David and wished he’d never have to let go. 

“Okay, now that that’s out of the way, do you want to finish up breakfast and then open presents? You’ve mentioned several times that presents are the best part of the holiday season, so I’d assume you’d want to get to them as soon as you can.” His teasing had the intended effect of making David laugh into his shoulder. He wiped away his stray tears and nodded, a determined look on his face. 

“Presents _are_ the best part of the holiday season. In fact, one time, I was in one of Elon Musk’s penthouses on Christmas Eve, one of the less hideous ones, that man has an atrocious sense of style, and…” David rambled on as the two of them sat down and finished their food. Patrick did his best to listen, always fascinated by the rich, colorful stories his husband had lived through, but became distracted by washing dishes at some point after the Musk Christmas tree caught on fire. 

He tuned back in to hear David conclude, “Anyways, I’m pretty sure Talulah left him because of how shitty his taste in presents is. Seriously, how can you be a billionaire and get your wife toenail clippers as a Christmas present? Ew.” Patrick made a face in sympathy. 

“Okay, David, could you just finish drying the plates while I go get a box cutter for the presents?” David nodded, and then wrinkled his nose. 

“Wait, a box cutter? Why would we need a box cutter to open presents? Patrick, did you not take them out of whatever box they came in?” 

“Nope! Figured the extra anticipation would be fun for you.” Patrick ran up the stairs, ignoring David shouting about how incorrect his gift-giving skills were. He grabbed the box cutter sitting in their supply closet and came back downstairs to David sulking next to the Christmas tree. 

“David, I’m kidding. I just got it in case you wanted to use it to open presents more easily.” David considered his statement, chin in the air, lips pursed. 

“Well, I _guess_ it would leave us less of a mess to clean up.” He conceded, and Patrick laughed. More with his husband than at him, but also a little bit at him. David was just full of so many contradictions. He couldn’t have one hair out of place in his coif, but would eat out of the garbage. He absolutely despised messes, unless he was painting, in which case, the entire kitchen table and a good portion of the floor, and David himself would be covered in paint. Patrick loved him so much. He wouldn’t trade him for the world. 

“Okay! So, do you want to go first, or should I?” David gave Patrick one of his patented shoulder shimmies and a winning smile. Patrick suppressed his own smile at that, wondering why he asked when he already knew the answer. 

“Mm, I think I’m going to go first. As payment for you making me use this very ugly gift-opening implement.” David gave the box cutter another disgusted look. “I’m assuming you stuck to the predetermined price limit, considering we just had a wedding and made a very big, adult purchase together and need to save money?”

“Of course!” Patrick replied, “I’m the finance guy after all. Did you stick to the price limit, David?” David just scrunched up his face to one side. 

“Considering I’m _not_ the finance guy, I don’t think I have to answer that.” David replied haughtily. Patrick laughed and shook his head. He really, really loved him. 

“Just open the box, David.” He said, playfully giving him a shove. David rolled his eyes, but couldn’t hide the excitement on his face. Patrick knew him too well. David ripped off the wrapping paper and then cut open the box. 

Patrick had spent hours and hours scouring the RealReal and Ebay before he’d found the perfect gift for David. He’d snatched up the Rick Owens boots he’d noticed David eyeing for months for a price not too far over budget. However, those boots weren’t in this box. This one contained an incredibly ugly, bright red and green sweater covered in smiling reindeers. Patrick had bought it specifically so that he could see the look on David’s face when he opened it. 

David pulled it out and let out one of the loudest gasps Patrick had ever heard from him. It took everything in him to keep a light, hopeful smile on his face when confronted with one of David’s most disgusted expressions. 

“Patrick, what the absolute fuck is this?” David demanded, his voice increasing in pitch with every word. “Please tell me this is a joke.” Patrick just wrinkled his eyebrows and looked at David with wide eyes. 

“You don’t like it? I thought you liked sweaters? I picked it out with your aesthetic in mind.” David just stared at him open-mouthed. Patrick waited for him to say more, so that he could needle him for just a couple more minutes, but David just looked like Patrick had broken his brain. He just gingerly shook the sweater, holding it with his thumb and forefinger, and just looked between the sweater and Patrick, making unintelligible noises. 

Patrick couldn’t hold it in anymore and burst out laughing, falling forward into David, who proceeded to shove him onto the cold floor, and throw the offending sweater in his face, for good measure. 

“We’re getting a divorce! I’m calling my mom and asking her to send me a good lawyer.” David proclaimed, standing up. “I’m keeping the house _and_ the store.” David had become a lot more secure in their relationship ever since their wedding, and called for divorce at least twice a week, so Patrick wasn’t too worried. 

He grasped at the foot of David’s pajamas to try to keep him from walking away. “David, wait!” He said, still catching his breath. David seemed to be humoring him, with his hands on his hips, but not walking away yet. 

“Well? What do you have to say for yourself?” He prodded, while Patrick continued cackling. 

“Do you- do you think I can keep the house? It's easily going to get to 150% of what we paid for it in the next couple years, with the increased foot traffic in Schitt’s Creek,” Patrick managed to get out in between laughs.

“Okay!” David threw up his hands in the air, but the lines around his eyes deepened, so Patrick knew he wasn’t really that mad. 

“Is Making Fun of David Time over yet? I wanna open my actual present.” Patrick wiped away a stray tear and nodded. David might actually divorce him if he continued on with this for much longer, instead of giving him his highly anticipated present. 

“You better have gotten me something amazing to make looking at that atrocity of a sweater worth it,” David warned, reluctantly sitting back down next to Patrick. 

“Trust me David, you’re gonna love it.” Patrick patted at his thigh, and handed him another box. David sighed dramatically, but ripped off the wrapping paper and grabbed the box cutter. He started cutting through the box, but it must have been thicker, as he seemed to be putting in more effort than last time, with little to show for it.

Patrick let him suffer with it for a few seconds before reaching out to grab the box from him and saying, “David, do you need any help?” 

“No, I got it!” He replied sharply, pulling the box away from him. Patrick wasn’t holding onto it tightly as David seemed to think, so David ended up pulling harder than expected, losing his balance, and falling to the ground. He gasped at the impact.

“Okay! you can do it yourself, I guess.” Patrick shook his head dramatically and added, “I was just trying to be a helpful, considerate husband.” When David didn’t get off the ground or reply to him, his smile faded. “David, you okay, sweetheart?” 

David didn’t reply, and just curled in on himself a bit away from Patrick, letting out what sounded like a sob. Panic shot through Patrick like a bullet. Had David hit his head? 

Patrick quickly crawled to the other side so he could see David better. His face was screwed up in pain. Patrick started gently running his hands over David, trying to figure out what was wrong. He noticed that David was clutching at one of his thighs with both hands, so he tried to peel his fingers away, but David wouldn’t let him. David whimpered at his actions and Patrick felt his heart break in two.

“David, can you please let me see what’s wrong? I just want to help you,” Patrick asked, his own voice cracking. David pressed his lips together, but did move his hand. Patrick hissed at the damage. It looked like David had somehow stabbed himself with the box cutter, and it had left a really deep gash. How had he managed to do that? 

Patrick froze. Looking at the two of them, people always seemed to think that Patrick was the reliable one in a crisis. After all, he dealt with David’s dramatics. Unfortunately, Patrick was a meticulous planner, so when things didn’t go his way, he just became very, very stressed out, making him absolutely useless in a crisis. 

David, on the other hand, had dealt with Alexis’s international shenanigans for well over a decade, so he seemed to know exactly what to do when things went wrong. Patrick quietly wished that he’d been the one who was hurt instead, both because he hated seeing David in pain, and because David wouldn’t just be sitting there in shock like Patrick currently was.

Patrick told himself to pull it together, and went into planning mode. First he’d get David something to press on the wound. Then he’d have to figure out a way to get David into his car, so that he could take him to the ER. Three, simple steps. Patrick could do this. 

“I’m going to be back in a minute, okay sweetheart? Just gonna get you something to put on that.” David nodded, and, for some reason, tried to sit up. “Stay down! I don’t want you to jostle your leg. Just give me a minute.” Patrick ran to the kitchen and picked up the first aid kit near the sink. He pulled out the gauze and ran back to David, who had pulled himself up to a sitting position, despite Patrick asking him not to, and was looking over his wound. 

“Did you get the antiseptic?” David asked, voice husky with pain. Patrick shook his head and firmly pressed the gauze against his cut. He saw David press his lips together until they went white, but he didn’t make a sound. 

“No, the cut’s quite deep, so I’m not sure if it’s okay to,” Patrick replied, very annoyed at himself. Why didn’t he take the first aid course at Town Hall? He didn’t even know if he should wait a bit to try and staunch the bleeding, or immediately take him to the ER. He was so stupid. So fucking stupid, why did he think letting David Rose use a box cutter was a good idea? 

“Okay, time for us to go to the hospital,” Patrick said, deciding that having a doctor make decisions would be much better for both of their wellbeings. 

“Patrick, if I get up, it’s just going to bleed more.” 

“Okay, I know that, but you can’t just lie here.” 

“Do you think I _want_ to be sitting here, bleeding out??” David threw up his hands in the air. Patrick immediately felt guilty. David was hurt, and Patrick was just arguing with him instead of helping. 

“I’m sorry, David. Do you think I should call an ambulance instead?” Patrick asked, in a much gentler tone than before. He realized he had been telling David what to do instead of including him in the decision process, which was something he knew David hated. David chewed on his bottom lip, but then shook his head. 

“No, you’re right. I can get up.” At that, David pushed his hands against the floor, looking like he was going to try _standing up_ with a _stab wound in his leg_ and Patrick had to push down on his shoulders to keep him sitting. 

“Jesus Christ! I didn’t mean get up this very second! Let me fasten this gauze to your leg first, and then you can _slowly_ stand up, making sure you don’t put any pressure on the injured leg. You can lean on me, obviously.” They sat in silence for a couple minutes as Patrick taped the gauze to his leg, trying to keep it tight enough to reduce the bleeding, but not tight enough to hurt David. He was unsuccessful, judging by the tears pouring down his husband’s face. 

Getting him to the car was awful. Patrick was strong, but also a good bit shorter than David. He kept stumbling against David’s weight. Every time that happened, David would try to put his weight on the injured leg, which was _much_ worse. Why in the world was he doing something that would hurt himself even more? 

By the time Patrick had finally managed to get David buckled in, David was sniffling continually, and Patrick was feeling horribly inadequate. David had carried Patrick up a fucking mountain because he had a _splinter_ , and Patrick couldn’t even take him a few hundred feet to his car without hurting him, when David had a stab wound.

They drove to Elmdale in silence. Patrick thought about asking David if he was okay, just to hear his voice, but he very clearly wasn’t, so Patrick stayed quiet.

When they finally reached the ER, David looked like he was steeling himself to get out of the car and repeat the earlier ordeal. Patrick made him stay there, and then ran in to get someone to help him out of the car. Thankfully, a couple of orderlies were available, and they managed to get David into the wheelchair without jostling him too much. 

The ER was far more crowded than Patrick had thought it would be on Christmas day. David was seen quicker than either of them expected, after Patrick told the receptionist that they were there for a box cutter wound to David’s thigh. A harried looking nurse ushered David behind a curtain and took his vitals. Patrick was allowed to come in with him after that, once they were placed in a room.

They had been waiting for the doctor for a while. Patrick had been holding David’s hand for most of this time, attempting to be a silent comfort to him, but decided to try and start a conversation when it became clear David wasn’t going to do so. 

“How are you holding up, sweetheart?” David just gave him a deadpan stare, undercut by the lines around his eyes betraying how much pain he was still in. Hm, so maybe that wasn’t the best line of questioning right now. Patrick decided to just bite the bullet and tell him how he felt. 

“David, I’m really sorry. I know that’s not going to help you feel any better right now, but I really didn’t mean for something like this to happen.” David lost his glare and furrowed his brows. 

“Patrick,” He said slowly, “why exactly do you think this is your fault?” Patrick blinked owlishly at him, also confused. Was David trying to make him say it or did he genuinely not realize how much Patrick had fucked up? 

“I’m the one who got the box cutter! This wouldn’t have happened if we’d just opened presents like you’d wanted to. And you’ve been so quiet this entire time, and I know a big part of it is that you’re in a lot of pain, and I’m really, really sorry about that, but I can’t help but feel that part of it is because you’re mad at me.” David opened his mouth, but Patrick continued on before he could say anything. 

“And of course, it’s completely justified for you to be mad at me, because this whole thing was my fault, but I just wanted you to know how sorry I am and how-” David leaned over and covered Patrick’s mouth with his hand.

“Hi, I’d like to respond before you continue to spiral, if that’s okay with you?” Patrick smiled a bit at that and nodded, happy that David was seeming more like himself. He thought about licking his hand to make him remove it, but David seemed to sense that he was going to do so and moved his hand away from his face.

“Ookay, so I’m not exactly sure how you came to the conclusion that this was your fault? I’m the one who was holding a sharp implement in my hand and not being careful with it.” Patrick blinked. 

“But you wouldn’t have hurt yourself if I hadn’t tried to take the box from you. And you were so quiet and kept giving me looks when you thought I wasn’t looking.”

“Patrick, I was embarrassed!” David burst out, hands flying up in the air for emphasis. “We talked about making good memories together as a family and instead, I injured myself and now we’re spending our Christmas in an ER!” David looked down at his hands. “I thought you were mad at me for ruining Christmas.” 

Patrick looked at him incredulously. “David, you didn’t mean to injure yourself! Why in the world would I be mad at you?” David just shrugged. Before Patrick could figure out how to convince David he wasn't mad at him, because David was the one who was supposed to be mad, there was a knock on the door. 

Both of them looked up to see the doctor walk in. He leaned down, shook David’s hand and said, “Hi, David, I’m Dr. Raj Bhatt. I’d ask you how you’re doing, but most people don’t like hearing that question when they’re here.” David let out a light chuckle at that. Patrick smiled, relaxing a bit at the sight of him. David was in good hands. 

He startled a bit when he turned to shake Patrick’s hand, seemingly recognizing him. “Patrick, right?” Patrick nodded. Oh no. He tried to subtly tell the doctor not to say anything, but unfortunately, he didn’t notice. “I remember you! The wrist healed up nicely, I hope?” David turned to Patrick with narrowed eyes. 

“Ex-cuse me? When have _you_ been here before?” Patrick and Dr. Bhatt both looked at David like two deer-in-headlights. 

“I’m so sorry, Patrick! I assumed you’d told your husband about the injury.” Dr. Bhatt looked guiltily between the two of them.

“ _What_ injury?” David pressed.

Before Patrick could reply, Dr. Bhatt said, “David, let’s fix up your leg, first. Can you recap how you got this incision?” He sat down on his chair, removed the gauze, and started poking around the wound. 

David winced, but told him what happened. Patrick tried not to fidget, wanting to be useful somehow, but also not wanting to draw attention to himself for fear of David’s ire for hiding his wrist injury. It wasn’t a big deal at all, but of course, David wouldn’t see it that way.

A few months ago, Patrick had been playing a practice round of baseball, and hit the ball at a bad angle. Everyone had heard an audible crack and they were convinced that Patrick had broken his wrist, despite his protests of being completely fine. 

Ronnie, of all people, insisted on taking Patrick to the ER. Patrick was convinced it was just so that she could watch him squirm. He had ended up making two hours of uncomfortable, stilted conversation with Ronnie, before sitting in an hour of awkward silence, just to find out that it was all for a simple sprain. 

It had been a mortifying ordeal that he didn’t want David to find out about, so he never said anything. Miraculously, no one else had said anything about it to David either, not even Ronnie, who David was annoyingly close to, so he’d considered the matter to be over. That had apparently been a mistake. 

Dr. Bhatt made quick work of looking over David’s wound. In the harsh hospital lights, it didn’t look quite as deep as it did at their house. Luckily, the doctor informed them that the box cutter hadn’t nicked an artery, or anything too vital. David would be in pain for a few weeks as the muscle and tissue healed up, and he’d need stitches, but overall, he’d be fine. 

Dr. Bhatt had also told them that he’d treated four other box cutter injuries today, which was unexpected, but made Patrick feel a little bit better. He wasn’t the only idiot out there today.

Patrick let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding. Although he had suspected that David hadn’t cut anything too important, there had been an awful lot of blood, so it was nice to have the reassurance of a medical professional. 

After the doctor looked at his injury, they were able to get out of the hospital relatively quickly. David had squeezed Patrick’s hand purple while he was getting stitches, and was very annoyed about using crutches, but seemed to be in better spirits now that he knew he wasn’t dying. 

They had picked up some ointment from the pharmacy for David’s stitches, and were on their way home before he brought up Patrick’s lie of omission. 

“So.” Patrick winced. David had a real talent for making the smallest words sound icy when he was mad. “When exactly were you going to tell me about how you were injured enough to go to the ER?” 

“I wasn’t injured enough for the ER! I had _lightly_ sprained my wrist, and everyone on the baseball team freaked out over it because they thought they heard a crack, even though I told them that it was just the sound of the bat hitting the ball,” David hummed, but didn’t say anything. 

“Ronnie drove me to the ER, David. Ronnie. And then I had to spend three hours with her, just because of a sprain.” David pressed his lips together hiding a smile. Patrick knew he’d be forgiven very soon. 

“Ronnie willingly spent three hours with you? That sounds like it was something serious.” 

“There was no reason for her to do that at all! I think she just wanted me out of commission because she knows I’m better than her. It was all part of her nefarious plan” Patrick glared at David as he tried to muffle a snort. 

“You don’t think I’m better than her?” Patrick asked, almost hurt. 

“Patrick, I don’t know the first thing about the baseball, nor do I care. It’s just funny seeing her get you so riled up over a team sport of all things. And I don’t think she had a nefarious plan in mind. She would have told me if she did.” Patrick narrowed his eyes at David. 

“I still don’t get why you meet up with her for drinks every Tuesday.” 

“Because we’re friends! I’ve invited you to drinks with her before!” 

“Okay, except you invited me and then told me that she doesn’t really want me there.” 

“Yeah, because she doesn’t, but she was willing to put up with you for a little bit and I didn’t want you to feel left out.” 

“David, that’s not any better! Do you see how that’s not better?” David burst out laughing, and Patrick tried to suppress a smile, because he was still supposed to be outraged at his husband taking Ronnie’s side over his. It was nice to see his husband happy again. 

“We’re almost home and you’re hurt so I’m dropping this for now, but we will be revisiting your weird friendship with Ronnie later,” Patrick warned. David continued laughing, pressing a hand against his mouth. 

Once they had gotten safely back inside their house, and David was sitting comfortably on the couch, Patrick brought out the cookies he’d secretly bought for later today. David lit up at the sight of them, and made grabby hands. Patrick handed him the box and watched as David scarfed down four giant cookies in under a minute.

Sensing his stare, David looked up. “What? I missed lunch and I’ve earned them.” 

Patrick raised his eyebrows, “I’m not judging you! Just maybe slow down a little bit so you don’t choke or something. I’m tired of saving your ass today.” David made a face and continued stuffing himself with cookies, but slowed down as requested. 

Patrick looked at the pile of presents with some trepidation. He’d surreptitiously thrown away the box cutter while David was making a fuss about how his Versace slim fit jeans were ruined and changing into a skirt that wouldn’t mess with his stitches, but Patrick was worried he’d upset David by reminding him of what happened. 

David must have noticed him looking, and realized where his train of thought was going. He interrupted, “Patrick, I want my present! It better be worth it after ruining one of my favorite pairs of jeans.” 

Patrick grimaced. “I think you’ll like it, but I don’t know if I would say it was worth going to the ER on Christmas day.” 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Patrick shrugged and handed David his present, taking it out of the decorative box himself, this time.

David looked up at him, excited at seeing the Rick Owens logo. “Patrick you did _not_.” He opened the shoebox slightly to peer inside, and then slammed it shut.

“Patrick!” Patrick winced a bit at the high pitch of his voice, but allowed himself to be pulled into his husband’s arms, making sure to be careful of his stitches. 

David grabbed Patrick’s face, looking serious and excited at the same time, “Patrick, this is way too far over budget! Also I fucking love you. These are definitely worth getting lightly stabbed.” 

Patrick privately vehemently disagreed, as the past few hours had been terrifying, but just said, “Merry Christmas, David. I love you too,” before kissing him. “Don’t worry about the budget, I’m the business guy, so I know what I’m doing.” 

David made a face. “Please don’t remind me that I married a business major.” 

“Wow. This business major works very hard every single weekday and some weekends to make sure our store stays afloat, so he expects a little more respect for his business degree.” 

“I still love you, honey, even though you’re a business major.” David gave Patrick a wet kiss on his cheek, and made an outraged noise when Patrick wiped it off. 

“If you’re going to insult me, I want my present in hand to make me feel a little better.” David raised an eyebrow, and pointedly looked at his leg. “Oh, right.” Patrick picked up his present from under the tree and returned to their sofa. 

He looked at David and said, “Just wanted to remind you that I love you, even though you’re almost as bad as your dad at giving people presents. No matter how awful my present is, I’ll still love you!” David’s jaw dropped open and he let out an almost bird-like squawk. 

“I’ll have you know I give great presents. I can’t believe you’d slander your husband like that.” Patrick looked at him, unimpressed. 

“David, last year you gave me a blue sweater. I don’t like sweaters!” 

“You were talking about how you wanted to expand your wardrobe! I was just going off of what you were saying.” Patrick just sighed, long-suffering and started opening his present. 

“Patrick,” Patrick looked up sharply, hearing a note of vulnerability in David’s voice. “You still have to pretend to like your present, at least for a little while.”

Patrick gave him a small smile. “David, I wore that stupid sweater twice a week last winter. And pretty often this winter, too. As usual, you were right because it looks very cute on me. I promise I’ll love whatever you give me, even if I may not appreciate the value of it at first.” David nodded, satisfied with his answer. He rested his head on his fists, looking at Patrick in anticipation. 

“Alright, alright, I’m opening it,” Patrick carefully removed the tasteful blue wrapping paper and removed the lid. There was a beautifully bejeweled, engraved letter opener inside. Patrick felt a little bit sick inside at the sight of it.

“You were complaining about how your old one was dull, and it was super ugly, so I got this one custom-made. Why are you making that face!” 

Patrick pursed his lips. “David, it’s very pretty, and ordinarily I’d love it, but you literally just got stabbed with a box cutter, so it reminds me a bit of that.” David threw his hands up. 

“How was I supposed to know I’d end up in the ER because I accidentally stabbed myself with something slightly similar to what I bought for you? Are we just not gonna cut vegetables anymore either, because the knives remind you of box cutters?” 

“ _We_ don’t cut vegetables. I do. And we will, it was just really scary seeing you like that.” David’s eyes softened and he pulled Patrick closer. Patrick buried his face into his chest and breathed in his scent. David was fine. He was a little injured, but mostly fine, and he’d stay that way. 

“I’m sorry I scared you. Do you want me to return this and get you something else? I’m not going to be offended or anything. Not too offended.” 

“No! It’s gorgeous and actually functional, which you know I appreciate. I’m just not going to use it for a little while.” David nodded. 

“Okay, now open your second present.” Patrick looked at him confusedly and tilted his head. 

“What? Why would you get me two presents?” 

“You got me two presents! I noticed a couple weeks ago, and I wasn’t about to be outdone. Plus, I knew the letter opener was going to be a hit or a miss.” 

“David, one of those was clearly a joke present! I can’t believe you got me two things. Now I feel bad that I didn’t get you more stuff." David creased his brow and looked at Patrick incredulously. 

“Patrick Brewer, you got me the newest Rick Owens. I have no idea how you did it, but you don’t have to buy me presents for like two years.” Patrick raised an eyebrow and just waited. “Okay, I take it back, you have to buy me presents all the other times of the year, as usual, but I really loved my gift, so I don’t care if you got me fewer things than I got you.” 

“There we go. Anyways, which box is the second one in?” David pointed out a small green box, hidden behind Moira’s present. Patrick quickly unwrapped it, and pulled out two small sheets of paper. He read one of them and a slow smile spread across his face.

“David, are these Blue Jays tickets?” 

David smirked and said, “Blue Jays versus Yankees. Look at the section number.” Patrick did as he said and let out a whoop, startling David. 

“David these are the best seats in the stadium! They’re really expensive. How in the world did you manage to get them?” Patrick looked at him in wonder. He loved his husband so much. He had no idea how he’d gotten this lucky. 

David just looked at him with his sideways smile. “I just called in a couple favors. I know how much my husband loves the baseball, and although I think team sports are a travesty, it won’t kill me to sit in the stands and look cute for a few hours.” 

“David, you know it’s baseball and not the baseball.” 

“I refuse to learn any more information about team sports, so I can’t hear you.” At this point, David had definitely been to enough of Patrick’s games to know all the rules, but Patrick knew that he loved messing with him. Normally, he’d harass David until he admitted he understood sports, but he’d let him have this one.” 

“Thank you, David. I love these, and I’m really excited to go see the game with you!” Patrick leaned in and kissed him.

“You want to go celebrate?” David asked, waggling his eyebrows. 

“You’re _injured_.” 

“Not anywhere that matters!” Before Patrick could formulate a reply, David’s phone rang, startling both of them. Neither of them had been expecting anyone. 

David picked it up. “You better not be in another hostage situation, Alexis, I swear to god.” 

Patrick could just barely make out the tinny voice through the phone. “Um, rude, David! That’s only happened like five or six times.” 

“What do you mean five or six times?? I only know about two!” Patrick motioned for David to move on and discuss Alexis’s hostage problem later. 

“Why are you calling me?” 

“Merry Christmas to you too, David! When are you picking us up?” David and Patrick looked at each other, perplexed.

“I’m putting you on speakerphone, Patrick is here.” David replied, and then mouthed ‘What the fuck” at Patrick. Patrick just shook his head and shrugged. When it came to Alexis, he was always a few steps behind. 

“Alexis, where exactly are you?” Patrick asked. “Hi, button! Um, at the airport, duh? Where else would I be?” Patrick was just as confused as David looked. Although the blizzard outside had died down, it was Christmas, so there was no way any of them could have gotten flights. 

  
  


“Okay, what Patrick means, is how the fuck are you here? And who else is with you?” Patrick mouthed David’s name chidingly, but David ignored him. 

“Stevie didn’t tell you? She talked to Larry Air and booked us flights. She called us this morning and told us to pack, which was very rude of her. How am I supposed to pack everything in a couple hours? Do you know how mad Mom was when Dad asked her to pick two wigs and move on with her life? There was so much drama, ugh.” 

David audibly gritted his teeth together. Patrick made a mental note to get him a dentist appointment after the Roses left. “So, mom and dad are with you?” 

“No, David, why can’t you listen?” David smacked his head violently against the sofa armrest, multiple times, before Patrick looked at him with enough alarm to get him to stop. He took the phone from David, to try and prevent further injury. 

“Alexis, can you start from the beginning and just tell us what’s going on?” Patrick asked, in his sweetest voice, the one that usually got her to do what he wanted. 

“Of course! Anything for my brother-in-law!” Patrick could almost see her attempt at a wink. “Stevie got us all flights. Mine from LA, obviously, Mom and Dad from New York, and your parents are just driving up.” 

Patrick’s eyes widened. “My parents are driving up? In a blizzard?” Alexis made a noise of disagreement. 

“The blizzard’s almost gone, Patrick! They’re like, ten or twenty minutes away. They were going to call you, but got distracted by the scenery or something.” David had gone shockingly still. Which was somehow worse than him banging his head against the sofa. 

“And mom and dad got on the flight a little bit ago, so it should land in like an hour or two. But come pick me up! I don’t want to sit here for that long. I’m soooo bored.” David took the phone from Patrick’s hand and hung up on her. 

Patrick and David just looked at each other. “Fucking Stevie. She could have told us earlier that she was planning this!” David yelled. Patrick was perplexed. He could see Stevie giving them a surprise like this, but she also would have given them a lot more warning.

He paused for a second, remembering something. Oh no. “David, we were supposed to go pick up Stevie like six hours ago.” 

David and Patrick both pulled got out their phones simultaneously. Patrick had fourteen texts and six missed calls. Judging by David’s expression, he was in a similar situation. 

“How did we miss these?” Patrick wondered out loud. 

“Um, I think I left my phone here?”. 

Patrick nodded “Yeah, and I put my phone on Do Not Disturb after you got hurt, because I didn’t want to get distracted by anything.” Patrick looked at David with terror in his eyes. “David, she’s going to murder us.” 

David was chewing on his lip. “Okay, so you can go get her now, and explain what happened. I am, unfortunately, indisposed due to my recent injury, so I’m going to sit here and try not to cry.” 

“David. I’m not picking up Stevie before you call her and explain what happened. Do you want a stranger to find my body dead in a ditch?” 

“Pat-rick! I’m hurt!” David pointed at his leg for emphasis. 

“I’m aware, which is why you’re gonna sit here, and call Stevie, while I go pick up your sister and parents at the airport. Once you’re done calling Stevie _and_ thanking her for getting your entire family tickets and being a very good friend in general, you’re going to text or call me, letting me know how mad she is.” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“David,” said Patrick, letting a note of warning into his voice. “We’re going to be hosting five more people than we expected to, today. Now, I’m not expecting you to do anything more than call Stevie. Can you handle that?” 

David rolled his eyes, but nodded. “Yes, Patrick, I’ll call her. And try to get the extra chairs back down here. And rearrange the presents, fuck! I stopped doing that because you bribed me with food!” David looked at Patrick angrily, almost manic. “Your parents are going to be here so soon!”

Patrick blinked and looked David in the eye, unimpressed. “David, am I going to come home and find you with a broken leg because you fell down the stairs trying to get the house in order? Because I really, really don’t want to take you to the ER again. On Christmas. When both our families are going to show up very soon.” 

David deflated. “No. I’ll stay downstairs and call Stevie. And maybe rearrange the presents. But I won’t put you through that again, I promise.” 

Patrick kissed his forehead. “Good. I’m holding you to that! I Just want you to be safe.” He helped David hobble over to the Christmas tree and put down a cushion for him to sit on, so he could continue fiddling around with the rest of the presents. Patrick also got him a glass of water, painkillers, and the rest of the cookies, just in case. 

“Don’t worry about my parents. I’ll call them on my way to the airport, and explain the situation. I’ll also leave a key outside so you don’t have to get up.” Patrick was trying to be soothing, but David looked horrified at the thought of having their guests let themselves in. 

“Your parents are going to think I’m an awful host!” He exclaimed, and Patrick sighed. 

“David, you’re hurt, my parents are going to be more concerned about how you’re doing than whether you’re there to greet them at the door.” Patrick walked around, trying to figure out if there was anything else David would need before he came home. 

After the third time Patrick asked if David would be okay, David snapped and pointed to the crutches, “I have crutches, and I just have a cut. I’m not an invalid! Go get my horrible family, and don’t let them convince you to buy them anything from the airport.” 

“It was not a cut, David, you were lightly stabbed. And don’t worry, I won’t let them con me into buying anything.” 

Patrick put on his jacket and opened the front door. He could still hear David muttering something about the present colors and how they needed to balance each other out. 

Patrick had decided not to mention that both his family and the Roses were most certainly going to bring all of their presents for the two of them. So, David’s carefully curated aesthetic would be ruined in a matter of hours by whatever garish wrapping paper his mother decided to use this year. David would get over it. At least this was keeping him busy and out of trouble.

He yelled, “Love you, David!” and closed the door, receiving a faint ‘Love you’ back. He locked it, and started the car, ready to go pick up the boisterous, over-the-top half of his family. It looked like he’d have the big family Christmas David had wanted for him, after all. 

**Author's Note:**

> I would be absolutely delighted to hear literally anything ya'll thought about this! As I said earlier, I'm trying to get back into writing, so I'd appreciate any sort of criticism. Merry Christmas to all who celebrate it!!


End file.
